


Storms

by kitkat0723



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, They are Whoever You Choose, Use your imagination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat0723/pseuds/kitkat0723
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two figures in the backseat barely register the storm rolling on outside</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms

**Author's Note:**

> I left the characters and relationships blank, so the two figures are whoever you want them to be.

Lightning crashes across the sky, exploding, bright, hot. In an empty field in Nebraska a car sits blending into the night, exposed only by another flash of light. Thunder rumbles almost shaking the ground, the car vibrating with each powerful boom. The two people in the back seat barely register the storm. They know it will all be over soon. Storms always pass quickly in the plains. No, neither body in the car cares about the weather. They care only about the other person. Hands glide along sweat drenched skin, gliding over faded, rough scars. Each knows where the others scars came from. A bar fight in Minnesota, a Vampire in New Mexico. It's always in the dark, when hands search skin, the other realizes, I could have lost you then. Strong sure hands grip toned, hard muscle. The rain starts to fall, steady, rhythmic drops. It sizzles against the hot metal of the engine, pushed to far. Lips meet lips until they pull away, gasping for oxygen. The air is heavy like the hot summer day they couldn't escape. It's tinted with sweat and sex as one drives home again and again. Blunt nails try to find purchase on a sweat slicked back. Their legs are tangled, hair matted against their foreheads. One calls out. Pants out.

"I... ca....can't." the feelings overwhelming. The other, calls out,

"I... got.... you... Let go." They come together like the storm raging outside. White, hot, blinding, all encompassing. Their breathing is shallow in the oxygen depleted car. One reaches over, opening the window, cool sticky air rushing in. Neither speaks, knows they don't have too. A quick swipe of a rag cleans them both for now. They sit there, leaning against the other, heads connecting, sweat dripping, breath mingling. Eyes drift close as the storm moves on, just like they will. The difference in the storms in that Nebraska field is one will fade and they know theirs never will.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcomed and GREATLY appreciated


End file.
